


elementary

by st_elsewhere



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bad Matchmaking, Blow Jobs, Christmas, First Time, Hate Sex, M/M, Porn With Plot, Strangers, adam is still annoyed at jordan but the sex is too good, adam's TITS and tat yasss, look adam seems cruel but he's just 'adulting', lotsa subcontext, mind games as usual, now with chapter 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-08-14 01:28:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7993603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/st_elsewhere/pseuds/st_elsewhere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“or do you want to get on your hands and knees so you can pretend i’m not, what did you call me? ‘the king of boring englishmen’?”<br/><br/><br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the king of boring englishmen

**Author's Note:**

>   
>   
>  if ye read on le tumblr i said i think jordan henderson is boring, i still stand by my opinion, but i realize i never write him like that ~~he's like a sex fiend tbh in all my hendollana fics~~ YASSSSSSSSSSSSSS imma genius fo sho~  
>   
>     
>   
> 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

it’s their unofficial third date and nothing more can convince adam that jordan is clearly _not into_ guys. which is a shame, because jordan has the common straight dude hotness that appeals to the gays; adam himself can testify to this bad culture of hooking up with straight men™.

but this time? it’s not even adam’s faulty habit. this time it’s thanks to dejan and his so-called patented gaydar.

at least adam holds himself back until their dessert. ‘jurgen’s’ is one of the best, new pub/restaurants in the whole merseyside and jordan is paying anyway.

_awh, look at his clueless pretty blue, blue eyes blinking at me!_

adam tilts his head and stretches the corners of his lips into a tight-lipped smile. okay maybe he should bite his bottom lip as a good measure because the black orbs of jordan’s pretty blue, blue eyes are always zeroing in on his bitten bottom lip everytime he does so—

“jordan? hey, should we just call it an end?”

 _tragic_ might be the only word to describe how open a jordan henderson’s expression is. his face shifts from looking like he wants to have adam’s bitten bottom lip as dessert to a perfect poise in a matter of second, all done without a crack on the surface; jordan didn’t even realize he was doing it.

“oh, what?” and he doesn’t smile to cover up his transparent slip. adam thinks it would be so easy to play with him if only he wasn’t this... elementary.

here goes nothing. “this. all of this. don’t get me wrong, you’re good-looking and kind, but it’s crystal clear that we have absolutely nothing in common.” adam doesn’t even care that he’s _sneering_ upon jordan’s genuinely confused look. “see? you’re just here, but you’re never present! don’t you have something to say?”

“i’ve been thinking to kiss you since the first date, when we had ice cream? but i don’t know how it works between guys.” jordan puts his elbows on the rounded table, using his big, big hands to hide half of his face. his wide shoulders are tense. the tips of his cute, elf ears are reddening.

adam wishes he heard him wrong. kind of. because still, it’s too late. “why don’t you just tell me?”

jordan shakes his head. when he pulls his arms back to his lap, he slouches on the chair and his wide shoulders are _shrinking_ , if that’s even possible. “um, i got the feeling that you were just being polite the whole time. dejan also arranged the second date, remember? i wasn’t sure how to ask you out. i’ve never done this before.”

“ _you_ thought i was being polite?” adam raises his voice, not bothering to correct himself. “well, you’re the king of boring englishmen!” he hisses, and gasps.

jordan’s smile is not even ironic. “i get that a lot, don’t worry.” and with the soft finality on jordan’s tone, they continue finishing their classic browny in a very, very uncomfortable silence.

 

 

 

what’s ironic is adam wasn’t lying when he yelled jordan is the king of boring englishmen. oh, scratch that; don’t forget to add how gentleman-y jordan henderson is! he insists driving adam home and walking him back to the apartment’s lobby!

“seriously, you don’t have to.” adam mumbles as he waits for jordan to lock his suv (unfortunate factor no. 5; jordan henderson is rich.)

jordan puts the keys in the front pocket of his worn out jeans and says, as plainly as possible but he makes adam unfairly despises him a little more, “i don’t have better things to do anyway.”

“ha, fuck you.” adam spats, sure that jordan won’t mind. he pushes open the heavy glass door with his shoulder. “tell me, do you still fancy a kiss?”

jordan’s pretty blue, blue eyes are focusing on adam’s plump lips for a split second. adam is not blaming him. “um, i dunno. it’s okay.”

“alright, that’s it.” adam feels triumph when he manages to crowd jordan against the nearest wall, any spectator via the security cameras be damned. jordan is taller and bigger in physique; he feels solid as adam presses their lower bodies snug, feeling the slowly rising heat and the betraying, frantic heartbeats. he’s enjoying this, making jordan helpless with his carefully calculated sensuality. why do you think adam has a bad habit of sleeping with straight men?

the kiss is brutal. jordan licks his way into adam’s willing mouth, persistent and consuming. his hands are pressing adam closeclosecloser with every shifts and groans. he tastes like salmon and chocolate, and his cologne smells expensive like the salty ocean. their hips are aligned on a desirable angle to rut like a pair of fucking teenagers and adam is glad—oh how _he’s so fucking glad_ that jordan is _packed_ down there because now he has more justified reason to sleep with his -nth straight men.

he’s pulled up to his tippy toes because jordan is not bending down _this infuriating fucker_ —and he struggles to get his arms around jordan’s neck to pull his hair _hard_.

jordan growls. his eyes have gone black when adam finally gets his swollen lips and throbbing tongue to work.

“come on up,” adam hisses, disentangling his body from jordan’s with a rough shove on jordan’s head. his legs are wobbly but he sends a practiced coy glare towards the furiously alive looking, never forget, younger man. “i’m not offering the second time.”

 

✖

 

first, they came still dressed up in their jeans pooled on their ankles and adam sprawled on his back on the grey couch; the mark jordan’s teeth left on the underside of adam’s jawline tingles whenever adam swallows, a promise of annoying quip from dejan for the next couple of days.

jordan had gone frantic the second he saw adam’s angel tattoo on his left ribs. he took their cocks in his right hand and stroked them to completion in record time, staying wordless all the while, making adam blushed remembering how he had begged for jordan to let him come. now they have moved to adam’s bedroom, every piece of clothing are on a pile on top of a coffee colored beanbag, and jordan is already half-hard from their short refractory period.

adam likes sex. he went exclusively for men a couple of years ago when he had a fallout with his ex-fiancé. it’s safe to say that he’s not exactly traumatized by women, he’s just tired with the expectation they seem to always set on him. men are easy because they’re honest when they say they want adam’s body and nothing else. adam is also superficial, so it’s a mutual agreement for him and his partner of the night.

_fuck he’s big._

“you’re smiling,” jordan says, looming over on top of adam. he’s careful so their cocks are not touching. _hmmm_ his collarbones are so sexy.

“what? i’m about to have _that_ big boy in me and i can’t smile?” adam sends an appreciative nod down there and jordan blushes.

adam rolls his eyes and slaps jordan’s left, unbuckling bicep. “if you thank me, you know where my front door is.”

“sorry.” jordan’s smile is all teeth, and it’s the first time adam notices jordan’s incisors are  sharper than anyone he knows. no wonder his hickey hurts. “lube?”

“top drawer.” adam answers, licking his lips at the sight of jordan’s strained muscles. “how do you want me?” he asks after jordan uncaps the water-based lube and pouring a lot on his fingers.

jordan, breathlessly, curses under his breath. it’s cute. “later? can you ride me?” he taps adam’s left thigh as a signal for him to spread his legs.

“you like the angel on my skin, huh?” adam spreads his legs and jordan’s eyelashes flutter. “just give me two. i played a little before our date earlier.”

“jesus.” jordan chuckles, in disbelief, yet he puts two fingers like a pro without so much a friendly warning. it feels like adam is being punched in the stomach, even though his twitching cock begs to differ.

“ _nnnghh_.” adam moans, closing his eyes. jordan’s lubricated fingers are _long_ and they’re slipped in easily. they’re filling him up _so_ , _so good_.

“y-you’re still tight.” jordan sniffs, rotating his wrist before stretching his two fingers.

“is that, _ahh_ , a bad thing?” if it’s not for the tip of jordan’s middle finger grazing his prostrate, adam would have rolled his eyes in irritation. he’s flinching and tugging at his gelled hair instead.

jordan hums his disagreement.

“play with my balls,” adam moans, licking his left palm and rubbing it against his cock. “get me hard.” he swings one leg to jordan’s left shoulder, resting the ankle there, giving jordan more room to explore.

jordan does as he’s told. he takes hold of adam’s cock with his lubed up, left hand. the grip is weaker if compared to his dominant hand, but adam is enjoying the fumbling he gets on his cock and balls while jordan’s long fingers are prepping his hole thoroughly. after rubbing his thumb on adam’s cockhead, jordan leans down and licks the slit.

the tentative act is so fucking _cute_ adam can’t not giggle and ask, softly, stroking jordan’s head, “good?”

jordan doesn’t answer. he closes his eyes and opens his mouth wider, putting adam’s cockhead in. the two fingers in adam’s hole are stopped to a halt as jordan hollows his cheeks and _sucks_ , and adam likes getting his cock sucked but he prefers to suck cocks rather than receiving one but it’s the combination of jordan’s fumbling first time _sucking a cock_ and the infuriating man himself that gets adam harder; he _can feel_ the rush of blood filling his cock as jordan swallows and takes a breath around a mouthful. oh my god. this is _great_.

“mmhmm, _yeah_ just like that.” he’s hanging onto jordan’s head now. he clenches his ass, telling jordan’s fingers to move, or else he’s going to move his hips then choke the man he’s going to ride. of course adam can’t let that happen.

“give me—use your teeth,” adam moans, pressing his heels against jordan’s shoulder blades, unknowingly closer. when jordan swallows, this time, he comes back sucking with a hint of teeth. adam’s whole body jerks awake.

jordan pulls his fingers out of adam’s hole and he’s slobbering when he finds his voice, “can you ride me now?”

“ _fuck_.” adam punches the bed before he gathers his will to move. jordan, probably boyscout trained, volunteers to lie on his back and wait patiently as adam climbs and sits on his abs. fuck his tatless abs, adam grumbles as he rolls his hips, giving jordan a glimpse of what’s coming, no pun intended. his own cock is leaking precum already, _jesus christ_ , but jordan’s mouth doesn’t look properly fucked.

maybe another time.

jordan grabs adam’s hips, pressing his right thumb on the angel’s toga and caressing his way up until he’s cupping adam’s chests. “you have tits,” he muses, in _wonder_ , and then he gives a hearty pinch to adam’s left nipple. adam gasps. “ _fuck_ adam, your body is so hot.”

“i—” adam positions the head of jordan’s awaiting cock around the rim of his wet ass, and he pushes down. again, it feels like he’s being punched in the stomach as he takes the few first inches of jordan’s cock. he forgets his smug retort as he heaves, throwing his head to the ceiling. his thighs are straining to hold his weight with help from jordan’s hands anchoring his hips.

“ngh,” adam whines, blindly grasping jordan’s forearm as he loses balance. it doesn’t hurt, but the humiliation does.

“ah, not like this then.” jordan apologizes, gently maneuvering adam to lie back on the foot of the bed. he inhales a sharp breath as he pulls his cock out, still hard, and kisses the corner of adam’s lips.

“better?” he asks, still gently, and adam nods, hating himself for the tears. jordan stares at him, not mentioning the obvious. he wipes them off with his drenched thumbs, stroking adam’s cheeks after.

they lie on their sides, and neither says anything for awhile. jordan’s big hands are tracing calming circles on adam’s head and lower back.

adam has his eyes closed and he only opens them when he’s brave enough to press a tender kiss to jordan’s unassuming lips. it feels like it’s been hours. his cock has deflated a little, but jordan’s not.

“did i hurt you?”

“it’s not that.”

jordan hums. “do you think we should stop?”

“no.”

“no?”

adam has a fond smile as he fakes his pout, “i’m not repeating myself, henderson.”

jordan’s laugh is transparent and _delighted_. “is it okay if i fuck you like this?” now it’s his turn to climb over adam’s torso, trapping adam’s wrists above his head in one big hand. he mimics a smile but it’s not fond; it’s _wicked_ just like the devil himself.

“or do you want to get on your hands and knees so you can pretend i’m not, what did you call me? ‘the king of boring englishmen’?”

 

✖

 

maybe adam doesn’t give the king much credit, after all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. know it all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “i... uh,” he blows the tea, sniffing. “do you. i mean. you can come with me to southampton. if you want, of course.”
> 
>   
>  jordan drinks his tea like it doesn’t burn his tongue. “what do you mean?” he didn’t put any sugar or milk in there and adam can’t imagine the taste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the most adult-themed fic i've ever written i guess. was aiming to make this light-hearted with dark humour etc but lmaooo [booperesque](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Booperesque/profile) we all know jordan henderson is hard to love. depressing af. the end for this setting tho. no more. 
> 
>   
>  anyway i miss writing them. i will. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“you don’t like it?”

adam clenches his teeth. the tiny box has tom ford aftershave in it. no card, but if there was then adam wouldn’t know how to handle the awkwardness even more.

“no, it’s not that.” adam sighs and he swears he didn’t mean to. he doesn’t want to appear ungrateful, although it’s not like he owes jordan anything. they have been civil after the first time; while admittedly adam was pissed drunk on their second time, still, the sex was _so good_. “i just didn’t realize we’re exchanging gifts?”

jordan shrugs, continuing to eat his big serving of turkey in peace. they’re at the jurgen’s again, deciding last minute to have a christmas eve _eve_ dinner before adam taking the train back to southampton to visit his family in the morning. jordan had called him earlier at lunch, and adam rushed to the hectic restaurant to find jordan already waiting for him on a partially quiet table by the window. if they were at least acknowledging each other as acquaintances, adam would have praised the color coordination jordan has on his outfit; the all black just screams power and money, really.

“seriously, hey,” adam puts the tiny box on his lap and reaches out to touch jordan’s right hand. jordan’s rolex is gleaming under the dimmed restaurant lights. when adam has jordan’s attention, he smiles, hopefully in joy not in despair. “thank you so much. i really appreciate it.”

jordan’s pretty blue, blue eyes are turning soft around the edges.

“you’re welcome.” he nods, turning his palm to cradle adam’s smaller hand and squeezing it before letting go. “fancy some dessert?”

adam is not blushing. he’s not stuttering at all when he agrees to jurgen’s signature salted caramel chocolate brownie.

 

 

 

jordan fucks him in his bathroom, standing up with the help from jordan’s mouthwatering arms anchoring his torso while he’s busy fogging the oval-shaped mirror with his uncontrollable moans. he looks hot. no, wait. _they_ look hot together like this; his pale skin is decorated beautifully in red flush and jordan’s tanned skin seems to glow. even the popping veins on jordan’s strong neck are turning him on.

adam, literally and figuratively, is so fucked.

he’s pushing his hips back to meet jordan’s deep, calculated thrusts, chasing the shy brush of jordan’s wet cockhead against his prostrate. he’s slicked up more every time jordan pulls out halfway only to push back in and spurting more precome. adam throws his head back and goes to his tippy toes when jordan loses rhythm, clenching tight around jordan’s throbbing cock.

“good?” jordan hums, nuzzling at adam’s nape and grabbing the swell of his ass, slowing down his thrusts only to stop completely once he’s in to the hilt; pressing his snug _and_ heavy balls to adam’s wet with lube rim. jordan’s hard cock feels like a spear now that it’s just idle _in_ him.

adam has to swallow down a moan as an answer, bending his waist a little bit. when he tries to move—to get _jordan_ to _move_ —jordan digs his blunt nails to leave bruises.

“nuh-huh.” jordan puts his left hand around adam’s throat. he opens his mouth wide and bites adam’s left earlobe, _hard_ , before soothing it with his warm tongue. repositioning his stance, jordan uses his hairy thighs as the resting block for adam, and then he starts fucking adam like that with adam half-sitting half-standing totally supported by his mouthwatering arms and _ridiculously_ strong, hairy thighs—completely boneless.

much later, after taking separate showers and adam thinking that it’s a good idea to have tea before bed—a _ridiculous_ idea that makes jordan stay for a cup, they both are sitting next to each other on the kitchen’s marbled bar. for once, maybe thanks to the jolly season, adam is actually feeling okay being in the same room with the younger man. remember their boring dinner dates before they first fucked? the second time didn’t have a dinner arrangement either, just jordan calling him and inviting him over to his posh flat.

right now, they’re not even naked at all. drinking tea, instead of doing unspeakable things only two adult men could do in their spare time.

nah. who is adam trying to kid? it’s the _sex_. he blacked out for half a minute and he secretly wished he had filmed everything for future, selfish use. he also spent ten minutes longer in the shower, wrinkled fingers working hard to clean his used ass that dripping with jordan’s come and lube.

anyway.

adam sighs. it’s almost twelve. he bought the earliest ticket for tomorrow. it’s a good thing that he already packed his duffel bag, or else he’s just not going to sleep. if he walks, it will take him fifteen minutes to get to the train station. but jordan hasn’t even touched his goddamn tea.

“are you going to spend christmas with your family?” well, adam is not a barbar. he knows the basic rule of engaging the man you sometimes fuck in a chit chat.

“i’ll have dinner with mother on the twenty fifth,” jordan says, eyeing a jar of honey-oat cookies that adam baked a couple of days ago. “may i?”

“oh, sure! please, help yourself.” adam answers, hiding his weirded out response to the way jordan calls his mum. _mother_? who the fuck calls their _mum_ ‘mother’? adam doesn’t get it.

“how about your dad?” he asks again to avoid making fun of himself.

jordan is enjoying his honey-oat cookie silently. “hmm, this is so good. dad’s somewhere in the maldives. gonna stay there until mid-january i think? my parents are divorced. dad married his second wife eight years ago.”

_oh._

adam is not a psychiatrist. he doesn’t need a degree to read people. yet somehow it still _baffles_ him how surprised he is of jordan’s tragic backstory. divorced parents. successful career. very distanced. probably thinks he’s going to fuck up any serious relationship with a woman anyway, thus fucking adam, _a man_ , is just a mere convenience if not out of curiosity. right.

“i’m...” adam is annoyed at himself for feeling the slightest of pity. jordan wouldn’t like it if he knew. hell, adam hates feeling anything for him!

“i... uh,” he blows the tea, sniffing. “do you. i mean. you can come with me to southampton. if you want, of course.”

jordan drinks his tea like it doesn’t burn his tongue. “what do you mean?” he didn’t put any sugar or milk in there and adam can’t imagine the taste.

“uh, umm.” he scratches his nape and gasps. it hurts over there. “y-you can come home with me to celebrate christmas. _if_ you want.”

jordan’s smile is brief and full of understanding. he thinks adam is pitying him. _fuck_.

“heh,” he drinks what’s left in his cup, not minding it burning his throat or whatsoever. when he gets up, adam’s heart is having a one-man race. “thank you so much. maybe next time.”

“oh, yeah. sure. i—” adam feels like crying. he bites his bottom lip and frowns, getting up as well. jordan is _understandingly_ keeping his distance and not commenting. he goes to collect his phone, wallet, and keys and walks to the front door where he puts his black coat. adam needs another minute before he can collect himself.

“are you—” adam clears his throat. he sounds too watery for his liking. he tries again, “are you leaving?”

“yeah. thanks for tonight. love your cookies.” jordan is shrugging on his black coat, his smile doesn’t reach his pretty blue, blue eyes. “see you around, adam. have a happy holiday.”

adam cries right after jordan says his name and if jordan sees it, he doesn’t mention anything. he leaves quietly, and adam forgets the last time he cried for another human being.

_it’s cold_ , adam thinks out loud as he crumbles to the wooden floor, sobbing for the sake of a man who’s nothing to him until his chest hurts.

_it’s really cold..._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
